by Danica Avet
It was their first kiss, and damn, he was good at it. He didn’t try to stuff his tongue down her throat. Oh, no. Grant was cleverer than that. He teased her with short forays into her mouth until she panted with need, her tongue following his back into his mouth.
The taste of Grant overwhelmed her. He was sleek and deadly, powerful and delicious. She whimpered in the back of her throat, not even noticing when he swiveled her body around on the seat until she was pinned beneath him.
He leaned back, his breathing harsh and fast. Hunched and kneeling on the seat, he positioned her legs so one was draped over the back of the driver’s seat of the king-size cab and the other was braced against the dashboard. If she weren’t still wearing her pants, she would be completely open and vulnerable to his eyes. The heat in his gaze told her he was aware of the same thing, and another dangerous smile touched his mouth.
“You don’t think you’re safe, do you, sweetheart?” he asked in a soft voice.
Before she could blink, he had a knife in his hand and sliced through the legs of her jeans. Her pussy clenched.
She was a sick, sick woman.
* * * *
Grant was nearly out of his mind with need. The look in her eyes was something he wanted to see for the rest of his fucking life. She sprawled on the seat of his truck, one hand plastered against the windshield, the other gripping the headrest of her seat. Her legs were wide open, the scent of her desire swirling around his head like a drug.
Gripping the edges of her jeans, Grant ripped them all the way up the seam to her crotch until the denim fluttered around her waist. Those miles and miles of long legs bare and spread made Grant lightheaded and that was before he got a glimpse of the saturated cotton of her panties.
He wanted to howl in triumph, beat on his chest like some primate, all because Isola was soaking wet for him. Instead, he slid his hands up her legs, relishing the silk of her skin, finding the slight scars that marred her legs. She’d fought hard all of her life and it showed on her body, but it brought him nothing but pleasure. She was a strong woman who could easily stand on her own. She didn’t need someone to take care of her, protect her, which meant when she stayed with a man it was because she wanted to. And Grant had every intention of being the man she wanted to stay with.
“Grant,” she croaked, shaking her head. “We can’t do this.”
Her brain was still denying what was happening, but her body softened beneath his touch, her nipples hardening for him. He ignored her words and slid both hands to frame her mound where the heat of her nearly seared him. She gasped, her eyes wide, and latched onto him. He brushed his thumbs over the dampened material of her panties, stroking the rigid nub of flesh beneath the cotton.
Hooking his fingers in the crotch of her undies, Grant ripped them off of her, letting the material fall to the floor of his truck. Humming with satisfaction as she was bared to him, he bent himself nearly in half to taste her. There was a thunking sound as Isola’s head met the glass behind her, but he didn’t bother checking on her. His entire focus was on the tight, wet pussy between his hands.
He speared his tongue into her entrance, moaning at the salty, sweet taste of her. Her hips arched towards him, seeking more, which he was more than happy to give. Small, fluttering licks along her swollen lips led him to her clit. As he worked that nubbin of flesh, his hand reached blindly for the glove compartment. Her gasping moans drove him crazy, but she hadn’t lost herself to pleasure, not yet, and he was determined to brand himself on her psyche. When she thought of desire, Grant wanted her to think of him.
He found what he was looking for without breaking away from her sweet flesh. His tongue dipped down for one last taste of Heaven as his hand busily prepared his surprise. Isola was gasping louder, one of her hands finding its way to the back of his head to hold him in place. Her strong legs tensed as though she were about to lock him against her, so he quickly pulled away from her.
“Bastard!” she roared, the hand on the back of head suddenly grasping his hair. “Make me come!”
Smiling with pleasure, he said, “Gladly.”
Her eyes widened as she finally heard the buzzing sound of her vibrator.
“No!” she gasped, trying to squirm away, but Grant wasn’t about to let her go without making her come once or a dozen times.
Grasping her hip in one hand, he guided the toy to her entrance. Trust Isola to buy the biggest toy she could find. The damn thing was only a couple of inches smaller than he was, and nearly as thick. He supposed that was a good thing because at least using it on her would prepare her body for him when they finally consummated this raging chemistry between them.
Grant knew his smile wasn’t nice, but he couldn’t hold it back. Isola was in his power and panting for what he would give her. Even so, she squirmed in his hold, but Grant didn’t falter, sliding that thick, vibrating cock into her. Gods, watching the bright purple toy press open her folds, watching the way her back arched as she took it into her body was enough to make him lose his mind.
“You wanted your toy back,” he told her, though his head and his cock both felt as though they were going explode. “I’m just giving you want you want, baby. But best remember: this is the only way you’ll ever get to use it.”
With the warning out of the way, he set his strength of will to making her come harder than she ever had before. Swiveling his hand, he rotated the vibrator just inside her entrance, earning a mewl of want from her throat.
She tugged his hair, this time mindlessly as her hips arched up to take the entire length and Grant lost it.
* * * *
Izzy swam in sensation, her body seeking it out even as her brain told her to stay away, but there was no contest. Grant had worked her up so much she thought she might go insane. And he continued to work her, this time with BOB, and the man knew what he was doing.
He fucked her with the toy, hunched over her as he brought her to the peak again and again. The fierce concentration on his face told Izzy her orgasm was his latest short-term goal. She didn’t mind, not right now at least. Her hips moved with each thrust of his hand, the toy vibrating against her in just the right places.
She was deaf and blind, all of her senses centered on where Grant was playing her like a fiddle. Tension swept through her body coming to roost in her womb where it exploded outward.
“Gods!” she screamed, head flung back as she rode the waves of her orgasm.
Grant never stopped fucking her, ramping up the vibration on BOB as he continued thrusting it inside her. Harsh, heavy breathing accompanied by whimpering cries finally intruded on Izzy’s brain. She was making those sounds, she was the one nearly pleading for release, but that realization was lost as she came yet again. This time black dots danced before her teary eyes and Grant met her frantic gaze.
* * * *
She was so beautiful when she came. Her entire body shook with the pulsing aftermath of her climaxes, her face streaked with tears from her release. His cock throbbed painfully against the fly of his jeans, but he wouldn’t have given up this chance to see her like this.
Gently sliding the sopping wet toy from her sensitive flesh, Grant’s cock jerked at her soft exhalation. Her legs slid down until he was surrounded by her. Head lolling back against the window, Isola was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen in his entire life.
Wrapping the vibrator in a tissue to be cleaned later, Grant couldn’t help but grin at it. Who would’ve thought he’d have so much fun playing with a woman’s vibrator? Of course, if the woman was Isola, he was positive anything could be fun.
“You,” she moaned. Her voice was hoarse from her screams. “Mm, you are so dead, LaMotta.”
As a threat it lacked conviction. Grant turned so he faced her and leaned against his own door. He wasn’t comfortable, not by a long shot. His cock felt like it was going to erupt. There was no comfort with it pulsing beneath his zipper.
“You didn’t enjoy that?”
He wanted to
rip his jeans off and fuck her, make her forget about anything but his cock. He glared at the vibrator, feeling more than a little jealous of the thing. Gods, he was pathetic.
She hummed softly, her breathing slowly evening out as her face relaxed. He wanted her just like that in his bed except without all the clothes. Shit, he hadn’t even taken her shirt or bra off to play with her nipples. Cursing under his breath at the thought of how hard they’d be, he shifted in his seat.
Her eyes drifted open, nailing him to the driver door. There was wicked intent brimming in the chocolate brown depths. She let her gaze wander over his face, down his chest, until it settled on the bulge in his jeans. His cock throbbed. It knew she was staring at him.
“You probably think you’re hot shit now, don’t you?” Her tone was conversational as she straightened into a seated position, her legs closing and blocking his view of the most perfect pussy he’d ever seen. “You think you’ve won me over.”
Grant shook his head. “I never said that.”
“You’re thinking it,” she stated, tucking her legs beneath her as she moved closer. “I may not have had a lover in a while, but I know when a man is making plans, Grant Strickland, and your eyes are filled with them. You’re trying to come up with some strategy that’ll leave me barefoot, pregnant, and cooking for you.”
Again he shook his head. “I don’t want any woman barefoot and pregnant, and if you don’t like to cook, that’s fine.”
She snorted, crawling over the seat towards him. “You think I’ll give in, let you fuck me, and bond with you. You’re trying to trick me into giving up my freedom.”
Grant opened his mouth to respond and closed it just as quickly. Was he thinking she’d give in? Um, no. He was praying she’d give in and let him bond with her. But there was one thing he absolutely refused to take from her. “I don’t want you to give up your freedom either, Isola,” he explained softly. “I admire you for who you are, the way you are now. I just want to be a part of that.”
Then she was in his face, her eyes angry and hot. “That’s bullshit and you know it. You think you could handle mating an Amazon?” she growled, her gaze drifting down to his mouth. She licked her lips. “You’re used to cow-swans who bend over backwards to accommodate males. You don’t know what to do with a strong woman, which I am.”
That pissed him off. “You think I’m scared of you, Isola? Is that what it is?”
Her beautiful lips curved into a dangerous smile. “Oh, baby, if you’re not scared of me yet, you will be,” she taunted just as she settled her mouth over his.
Grant was surprised she was willingly kissing him, but as she plundered his mouth, he knew she was going to show him how a strong woman made her man behave. Almost giddy with delight, he let her take the lead, let her think she was in complete control. His heart hammered. Damn, he couldn’t wait to see what she’d do to him!
* * * *
Izzy was playing with fire, but since she was a closet pyromaniac, that was nothing new. Although she had to concede this fire could do a lot more than burn her, it could break her heart.
The minotaur was relaxed against the door, his breathing measured and steady. He almost seemed completely calm, except the thick bulge pressing against her belly told a different story. In two days he’d given her two of the most powerful orgasms of her life and hadn’t asked for anything in return. He’d brought himself to climax at least once and though it had been a sight for sore, horny eyes, she hadn’t done it to him.
He was so confident he could control her with sex, so confident he could break her will to stand alone that he didn’t think Izzy was more than capable of reducing him to a puddle of goo. Hell, it might’ve been a long time, but some things a woman never forgot.
So she kissed him, tasted him, recognizing herself on his lips which made her wetter than before. Her body hummed with relaxed delight. She could have been a bitch and left him hanging, but Izzy liked to give as good as she got. And she planned to make Grant beg for her.
He didn’t try to take over the kiss, though he participated, following her lead. Izzy stroked her hands up his rock-hard thighs, enjoying the sensation of heat beneath soft denim. Grant made a soft sound in the back of his throat that set her nipples to throbbing. Oh, he definitely thought he had her eating out of his hand.
She bit his bottom lip just as her hands found his cock. He jerked against her, his breathing picking up pace. Pulling back to sit on her knees, Izzy had to smile at the sight of his eyes bleeding to black again. His arms were spread across the truck, in almost the exact same position hers had been in. He was letting her control this encounter. Happy and pleased, Izzy decided to reward him.
Holding his gaze, her hands found the button at the top of his jeans, flicking it open. The backs of her fingers grazed the hot, hard muscles of his belly, muscles that contracted beneath the light touch. Easing his zipper down, she was rewarded with his cock as it practically leapt from the cradle of his jeans.
Izzy didn’t bother keeping her admiration quiet. “Gods, Grant,” she said in a voice gone two octaves lower. “This is the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen.”
And she wasn’t lying either. She’d seen him before, but that had been across a room and his hands were bigger than hers, so she hadn’t really been able to judge well. He was thick, her fingers barely able to wrap all the way around him and she tried, earning a ragged moan from him. He was also long, and the phrase “hung like a bull” fit him to a tee. Both of her hands fisted together weren’t enough to cover his length. Her womb rippled with the onset of another orgasm.
“Isola,” he gasped as she squeezed him.
“What.” She frowned with concentration at the hot flesh burning her hands. She didn’t know where to start with him because she had so many ideas.
“I’m going to come,” he breathed as she stroked him experimentally.
“Not yet.”
His hips twisted as he thrust into her hands. “Yes, now.”
“I haven’t decided what I want to do yet.”
She pondered taking him into her mouth. She wouldn’t be able to take all of him, but gods, what fun it would be to try!
“Make. Up. Your. Mind,” he growled as a pearl of pre-cum wept from his slit.
Izzy glanced up in irritation. He was not allowing her enough time to properly decide how she was going to attack the massive cock in her hands and it was pissing her off.
“Fine.”
Then she leaned over, surrounding the crown with her mouth, sucking on that plum-sized flesh hard. He shouted, his hands grabbing her ponytail. Izzy purred at the salty taste of Grant’s seed. She lowered her head, taking as much of him as she could into her mouth. It wasn’t enough, but she may as well have deep-throated him by the way he reacted.
He roared, his hips pumping up as she suckled him as deep as she could. His hands jerked on her ponytail, pulling her away from him slightly as he came in great, pulsing jets Izzy swallowed greedily. Her inner muscles fluttered with a phantom orgasm from the intensity of her want for this male.
* * * *
“Gods,” Grant whispered as Isola finished taking all he had to give. He was wrung out and embarrassed.
She’d barely put her mouth on him and he came. That wasn’t how things generally worked for him. He was a male with great control, yet this Amazon had him coming like a pre-transitional calf!
The look on her face was pure triumph and arousal. He could get used to watching her suck him off, but maybe after a couple hundred years. He’d probably need a century or two to get used to her power over him. Power she knew she had. They were the perfect couple, he thought in drowsy contentment, because he had awesome power over her as well.
She sat up, pushing away from him to her original spot in the passenger seat. Her hair straggled out of her ponytail. It had been far too tempting to hold onto it as a handle to guide her mouth on him, but he’d managed not to until the very end. Again, he’d leave that fantasy alone until h
e had more control.
Though she still glowed with the remnants of her orgasm and triumph over his loss of control, Isola was closed off from him. He saw it clearly and resented it deeply. Heaving a sigh, he carefully tucked his hardening cock back in his jeans and fastened them again. There wouldn’t be a repeat any time soon, he thought with a huff of irritation.
“Stop huffing and puffing,” she ordered as she stared out the window at his house. “You started this.”
“Yeah, but you had two orgasms,” he pointed out pettily.
“So? I’m a female. It’s a fringe benefit for having to put up with stupid males.”
Grant’s lip curled as he studied her cold profile. “You could at least do it to be polite.”
“I don’t think so, Raging Bull,” she said with a snort. “Nowhere on this body does it say ‘Grant Strickland’s sex slave.’”
“That can be remedied,” he grunted as he turned in his seat.
“I knew it!” she snarled, throwing open her door and jumping out of the truck. “I knew you were trying to trap me!”
The door slammed closed, and Grant went into a rage. He got out, stomping up the stairs to the porch after her. “You don’t know shit, Isola. You’re so busy running scared you don’t know a good thing when you see it.”
That stopped her in her tracks and made her pivot to face him. “A good thing? Is that what you call it? When you’ll keep me from being with my sisters? When your mother hates me and your dad thinks I’m nothing but a new toy for you to play with? What happens when your sisters join in the fun, Grant? Will they wait for me to explain that I don’t want this, or will they stampede me immediately, huh? Huh?” She was screaming.
Grant stared at her, not sure what to make of her accusations. He understood her fears after hearing her story about her mother, but she couldn’t honestly think he would do the same thing to her. He tried to hold back the question, but it slipped out. “Are you insane?”